Lauralee
by MrsRickGrimes
Summary: Lauralee finds herself at the mercy of the Lone Ranger & Tonto after her wagon is attacked by bandits. Eventual Tonto/OC


**Keep Running**

Lauralee peered down through the maze of branches to the ground below, and tried not to dwell too deeply on the fact that she was currently treed like a cat. The long abandoned tree house was built awkwardly against the sides of two sturdy pines, and she'd stumbled across it purely by accidental luck. Someone had hammered planks of wood to form a crooked ladder that led to a platform big enough for two to sit and old whiskey bottles lay scattered below.

The wagon ambush had been spectacularly terrifying and she remembered the sound of her younger brother, Philip's loud whispers._ Lauralee, come on... they're coming. Hurry!_

She heard the distant shouts, men's voices, rough and excited coming closer and realized the level of danger they might all be in. Her small cousin, Katherine was crying in fear and she pushed her towards Philip.

"Take her," she croaked, her throat dry and her voice barely working as she tried to dislodge her leg from the heavy trunk that had fallen over in the attack. "Take Katherine ….run, Philip! Find help!"

"Lauralee... please come _on_. I'm not leaving you here."

"Hey!" a man's voice floated down. "I see you! Don't run, li'l rabbit or we'll skin you!" Other voices laughed and Lauralee heard the intent in them, something unpleasant and ugly.

"And what do you think _those_ dregs will do?" she said harshly. "Go _now_. Take Katherine and run! _Move,_ goddammit!"

He'd done as she said, reluctantly and fearfully taken Katherine and sprinted for the cover of the woods. Lauralee gave a mighty heave and her leg came loose, twisting her knee painfully. She scrambled onto the ground outside just before their assailants closed the distance to the overturned wagon. She crawled a short distance, then scrambled to her feet and looked around in time to see three men, dirty and unshaven carrying what appeared to be heavy, blunt and wide wooden clubs of some sort. They had spotted Philip, carrying Katherine and running with a very pronounced limp. They charged after him, hollering like a bunch of crazed, drunken cowboys.

"I hate the South," she muttered to herself, then took a deep breath and shouted as loud as she could. "Hey! Why you chasin'_ boys?_"

All three literally skidded to a halt and turned to look back at her. Lauralee caught a flash of Katherine's pink dress as Philip disappeared into the woods, and for a moment the three pursuers looked confused as they turned their heads back and forth. Lauralee started to back away and ignored the pain in her knee as she spun and ran as hard as she could towards the woods. They picked right up hollering like drunken cowboys again, and she gritted her teeth as she ran, trying not to imagine what was going to happen when they caught her. She stumbled and fell once, cursing at her own clumsiness and scrambled back up groping for the handgun. She managed to draw it just a split second before something hit her like a freight train from behind, and she went down hard, all the air forced out of her lungs as she fell flat with a large overexcited redneck on her back.

"I got 'er!" he shouted. "Got 'er boys!" She heard the other two cheering and waited for her captor to make the mistake of letting her roll over. He did almost immediately, grabbing a handful of the back of her dress to flip her over onto her back, then froze in place, staring in shock at the barrel of a gun pointing right at his nose.

"Get off me," she growled, and he blinked stupidly, then his face twisted in a sneer.

"Girls can't shoot," he grinned. Lauralee didn't bother to argue, just pulled the trigger as he pulled a fist back to hit her. She turned her face away to avoid the splatter of blood and gore as his head literally exploded, rolled to her feet and turned to face the other two, gun held in both hands. They had immediately hit the ground, shocked by the noise and expecting more gunfire.

"Bitch killed Ringo!" one of them sputtered. Lauralee fired two more shots, kicking up the dirt in front of them, and they both started to move backwards away from her.

"I should kill you _all!_" she shouted, and fired twice more.

"Run, Benny!" one of them shouted at the other, and started pulling at his friend.

Lauralee fired again as they both retreated. She took aim at the back of one of their heads and pulled the trigger slowly, then let out her breath as the chamber clicked empty. _Shit._ She looked in the direction Philip and Katherine had gone, trying to decide if she could make it that far before they returned with real weapons. _They must have thought they'd have easy prey,_ she realized. _And now they do. _Cursing herself for not fully loading the barrel and wasting shots, Lauralee turned and ran for the woods.

Now, hidden up high away from possible unfriendly eyes, she did her best to ignore the pain in her lower back and tried to find a sitting position that didn't force her to bend the twisted knee too badly. Lauralee turned her thoughts to hope. Hoping that Philip and Katherine were safe, hoping that her fiancée Logan would find them and in typical soldier fashion find a way to come looking for her. She rested her head back against the tree and closed her eyes.

_I ain't never leaving you, Lauralee. _

"I love you, Logan" she whispered out loud.

Lauralee opened her eyes with a gasp, realizing she'd almost fallen asleep, and reached down to grip the sides of the platform. There were no railings or anything to guarantee she'd not roll off in her sleep. She strained her ears, peering into the darkness. Then she heard it, the faint shuffle of a foot on dried leaves, the snap of a twig and immediate silence.

"Hey," came the whisper from the darkness below. Lauralee froze, unable to make out the voice that cast itself so quietly. Philip? One of the rangers?

"I know you're up there. Come on down, it's safe."

Lauralee still refused to move, holding her breath and gripping the edge of her very uncomfortable seat with fingers sore and bruised. Below her, the whisperer sighed, and the sound was distinctly male.


End file.
